Poetry by Slopes
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Nine hundred times ten
Is something I don’t know
I could never count so high
Even if I were Einstein
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Is a muffin a muffin if cut in half and buttered?
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Shear the sheep
And watch me weep
over the sight of a naked lamb.
In the corner I’m stuck
My thumb I suck
And wish for a pound of ham.
If the Rainforest were made of metal
If the Rainforest were made of metal
You could never cut it down
Not with a thousand lumberjacks,
You could never cut it down.
No. The monkeys would be happy
And cut themselves on leaves.
Only the coolest cat I know can
Call the beavers “beaves.”
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Step into my office
And don’t eat my stapler. That’s a picture of my
Wife and daughter
Quit jacking off to it.
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Who will choose me? The rock? The tree? The river?
Maybe my uncle Rusty.
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Fucking a pig when your penis isn’t shaped like a corkscrew is dumb.
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Dig up the body
and dance with it
Sit it down for tea.
And when the ants aren’t eating melon
Yell, “Why aren’t you eating me?!”
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My favorite salmon Jap dish is lightly seared Sashimi
My favorite movie’s Braveheart, starring Steve Buscemi
Hey! That bucket is my bucket and can catch both bee and beetle
Hotel Rawanda ’s ‘bout genocide, and starring is Don Cheadle.
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Go away my mosquito friend
Or I shall fetch my flyswatter slave.
He'll swat you ‘til you bloody end.
(The computer just auto saved.)
Bubbles, bubbles, lots of bubbles
Will make a child laugh.
Replace the bubbles with barracudas
And you’ll see this Asian raugh.
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Now listen up.
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The fish tank hums so loud; so punch it with your fist,
and take the shards of glass and cut your fucking wrist.
Then, in distress yell, “Mother!”
Her reaction watch with bliss.
As you bleed in her living room
And stomp on all her fish.